The Little Mermaid
by Freaky Krazer
Summary: A modernized retelling of Hans Christian Andersen's fairy tale. Rin struggles to survive while paying off her father's debts to the Yakuza. Yearning for freedom, Rin makes the deal to earn the love of the man who could end it all.
1. A Dream

The Little Mermaid

Abstract: A modernized retelling of Hans Christian Anderson's fairy tale, _The Little Mermaid_ follows the story of fifteen year old Rin in modern day Tokyo. Living alone while paying the debts her deceased father owed the Yakuza, Rin tries to survive and make ends meet. Day and night, the young woman dreams of the day she can be free from the vicious cycle of an impoverished and indebted life. Things finally turn out for the better when, on her 16th birthday, she meets the man who could end it all.

Chapter 1: A Dream

"_You, poor little mermaid, have tried with your whole heart to do this too. Your suffering and your loyalty have raised you up into the realm of airy spirits, and now in the course of three hundred years you may earn by your good deeds a soul that will never die."_

Excerpt from _The Little Mermaid_ by Hans Christian Andersen

Unlike most people, Rin knew that fairy tales are not happy. They are not perfect. They began as a very grim tradition, one to honor the mourning widows and orphaned children. It was a tradition meant to bring fear in the most blissful of hearts, and redemption to the most pitiful of souls. They tell of suffering when there was none to be had, and of grief so tragic, that not even tears could bring warmth to the cold, lamenting soul. But like most people, Rin was unaware. For how could she not be? How could she have known that these tragedies, these melancholic pangs which gnaw in the bravest of hearts, could begin with the wild innocence of blissful dreams? Indeed. In most fairy tales, sadness begins with just one dream.

_Tokyo, Japan. December 2011_

The neon sign of the noodle house flickered on and off. Its bright orange arrow pointed to a ramshackle eatery smoking with the steam of newly cooked broth. Every now and again, the fluorescent arrow would buzz as it vaporized incoming snowflakes, making the dilapidated noodle house even more conspicuously ugly among the array of tiny restaurants and dim sum carts.

The street was crowded with parked cars and bicycles locked to telephone booths and street lamps. Rin always thought it amusing that the street _still_ had telephone booths, one every several yards apart. Unlike most wards in Tokyo, the neighborhood remained impoverished, frozen in the time of its potential growth. The affordable standard of living allowed an influx of minimum waged workers and otherwise noted members Tokyo's less privileged residents. Yet with all the cramped coziness of this slummy street, the neighborhood remained bare of people. The only visible forms of life were Rin, taking a seat in the noodle house, and the sleep-deprived chef, who is mechanically boiling noodles for his lonesome customer.

"Arigato," she chirped as the chef placed the bowls in front of her. Rin mixed nonchalantly toyed with her food as her mind wandered into her worries and regret.

_The landlord would want the rent soon…_ She eyed the noodle chef's tip jar, adjacent to the cash register on the far end of his booth. Rin wasn't tempted to steal, but the presence of money brought creases on her forehead, and she morosely wondered whether this would be her last meal or not.

Her hands wandered to her lower left coat pocket, where she felt the bulge of her old flip phone. Back before she dropped out of school, her friends always teased her for having a laughably primordial cell phone, but it's all she had, and all she needed. Her cell phone had been off for a while now. Its incessant ringing had bothered her, and she didn't have the courage to answer the calls.

"Better to eat your noodles warm than cold."

Rin woke suddenly from her bitter daydreams and turned to the man next to her.

He was a suspicious character, dressed in a worn out trench coat. His naked chin bore the stubs of a freshly shaved beard, and his long nose was crooked and misshapen. The man wore a fedora stooping down to his coat's collar, and everything about him was covered. Rin also noticed that the odd man wore sun glasses.

_It's 11:30 at night…_

She eyed him apprehensively, unsure how to react to his disquieting appearance.

"It's a pretty cold winter. Wouldn't you rather be warm with food in your belly, and a bundle of clothes?" The man smiled, his lips unveiling his crooked, yellow teeth. It wasn't until the chef appeared with his noodles did Rin finally realize that he was still talking to her, while she remained a muted dolt with forgotten manners.

"Yes, you're right. I should take your advice." Rin lowered her head, gazing only into her noodles. She felt ashamed at how rude she had just bin.

The cloaked man laughed heartily at her response. Turning back to his meal, he groped the bowl with his gloved hands and slurped down his noodles. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve and turned his attention back to the absent minded girl.

"Better to savor strength, young lady. Warmth is a rare and precious thing, transient against the cold. Winter is coming."

Rin gave him a puzzled look, and with that, the man got up and left. His figure disappeared with the shadows, away from the iridescent neon sign of the noodle house. Glancing at the time, Rin realized too that she should make her leave. Hurriedly, she slurped her noodles as well and left the money on the table. It was time to go home.

Rin stopped before she entered the corridor. Her meager apartment was all the way across the hall, but she didn't dare move. In front of her door stood the silhouette of a stalwart man, waiting vigilantly for the young woman's return. His dark suit melded into the dimness of the hallway, with the bright light shining against the buckle of his belt, and a pistol sticking out of its holster.

He smiled when he heard the click of her boots and immediately pulled out a cell phone from his suit. "Boss, she's here."

The young woman slowly approached with trepidation. Her perspiring hands hid within her pockets, shaking violently in her clothes. "I…" she stammered, "I… paid… l-…"

The man marched quickly towards her and raised his hand. Before Rin could cower underneath him, his arm swiftly moved and backhanded her, leaving her face red and swollen. "This is your last warning."

Tears welled in her eye lids, soaking in her mascara and make up. Gray lines slithered down the bruise of her cheek as she stifled her choking sobs.

The Yakuza grinned, feeding off her pain and fear. "Now, why don't you be a good girl, and do the boss says. You wouldn't want to end up like your father, would you?"

She nodded obediently, groveling on the floor before him. "Please sir, I try my best. I do! My jobs…-"

Slap.

The man backhanded her once more, this time giving her opposite cheek the honor of a fresh and inflamed bruise. Rin didn't notice that his other arm had a Rolex wrist watch, and that his fingers were bedecked with golden rings. Her hand touched her cheek, fresh with burning blood.

He guffawed at her pathetic form. "No excuses. If your jobs don't pay you well…" He crouched down to be closer to her face, and cupped with his firm hands her scarred cheek. "There's always the job Boss offered you. It's been known that he's keen to… fresh meat."

Rin blushed at the suggestion and her lowered her eyes once more to the ground. She sat frozen. _I don't want to be a whore…_

He chuckled once more at her before rising to make his leave. "You still owe eight million yen. If the Boss doesn't receive the payment in two weeks… hmm, well, Boss is always looking for fresh meat." He laughed at the repeated threat, and even after he left, Rin could hear his maniacal laughter echoing dissonantly in the hallway. Chills went down her spine as she cried and huddled against the hallway's corner.

She dreamt she was far in the ocean, basking in cerulean waves crashing against coarse rocks jutting out of the surface. The water was pristine, clearer than the heavens above, and the clouds languorously hovered near the radiant sun. Rin stayed afloat on the waves, her form naked and glistening with emerald beads of the salty sea. Her hair, ethereal in the water, shimmered with the sun's crystalline glow. Everything was beautiful_. She_ was beautiful.

Her body floated for hours and hours, until finally, she came upon a sandy shore. The beach was white and pure, no rocks or coral littered within the golden dunes. It felt soft against her feet, and smooth like the petals of a summer rose. She crawled away from the water, and further into the alabaster sands. The ocean breeze came and went, entangling itself within her hair. _Heaven_, she thought. She could lay there forever.

For a while, the breeze hummed a lullaby, and she felt the wind's nocturne singing gently into her ears, but when the song ended, the sun vanished.

The sky never reddened, neither did it darken. Rather, it seemed veiled, with its sapphire color fading into gray. The clouds emanated with a pallid light, so luminous it shone brightly against her eyes. The clouds grew thicker now, more somber, as if ushering a storm.

Rin sat against the sand, which grew frigid with time. She hugged herself, trying to keep her bare body warm. Tears sprang from her eyes, and before long she was calling out for help, but she heard no echo. When the storm seemed to come at least, no rain or wind howled. Instead, snow fell.

The prismatic flakes descended with a lachrymose grace, as if they tears frozen in the heavens. They fell in millions onto the shore, and before the long the whole ocean was covered with a thin blanket of snow. Winter is coming.

"Remember…"

Rin turned around, looking for the source of the voice. She heard a man groaning in pain, somewhere behind her. She had no idea where he was, or who, but she felt his lungs tightened by frozen water, and his body bruised by cruel boulders and unrelenting waves. It was as if she was drowning in his stead.

Searching, she finally found a man buried underneath the snow. His body was ragged, torn and beaten by a storm which never passed. His hair, a pale blue shade was soaked, but not frozen. On his head she saw a crescent fading into his ivory skin. He felt cold, and Rin could sense the fire in his heart waning with his breath.

She didn't know why, but Rin felt heartbroken. Her chest throbbed in anguish, and her eyes welled up once more. Her arms cupped his face, caressing his frigid skin with the warmth she wished to give. After her futile efforts of giving comfort, she embraced him with her nakedness, and placed her ear against his chest to hear for his dying heart. With each slowed beat, she felt disheartened, and her voice cried in mourning. Rin wanted to help him, to save him, but she could do nothing. Her lachrymose eyes gazed into his comatose face once more, and lightly kissed his blue lips. When her tears fell on his chest, she began to sing a song. It was a song lost from her a childhood, a song she thought she had forgotten, but remembered for she loved this man, and she didn't know why.

"_Where is the friend  
>I seek at break of day?<br>When night falls,  
>I have not found him.<em>

_My burning heart  
>Shows me his traces<br>I see his traces whenever flowers bloom  
>His love is mingled with every air." *<em>

And with those final words, Rin kissed him once more, and his lips came to life.

"Love him you shall," a disembodied voice echoed in her head.

"Love him you shall, and a year you shall have. When on the last day's sunset, he belongs to the heart of another, your love he shall have, and his heart you shall not. Like foam, you will wither into nothingness, a memory so vague in the depths of his mind. You will be the Daughter of Air, a wind howling in grief and unrequited love, eternally forlorn. Eternally alone."

Rin woke to the sound of her alarm, and for a second, she thought she felt a warm kiss bring her back to reality. But in the end, there was nothing but a destitute apartment and a bemired window shunning out the rays of the morning sun. Rin placed her hand on her cheek, stinging with puss and dried blood.

"It was just a dream."

_Author's Note: the song Rin sings in her dream is from a poem recited in the film, "Wild Strawberries" by director Ingmar Bergman._


	2. The Trade

Chapter 2: The Trade

Millions of tiny bubbles simmered around the rim of the champagne glass. On its golden surface, one could see distorted reflections of Tokyo's iridescent skylines, and the dozens of chandeliers gracing the gilded ceiling. Everything was bright and vivid, and the myriads of voices resonated through the ballroom whilst anonymous faces flitted about in search for social conquest. This was the world he lived in. This was the world he owned.

Sesshoumaru's chest heaved, releasing an exasperated and contemptible sigh. He hated it. He hated everything. Everywhere he went, so long as he carried his name and power, he was in chains, manacled to the perpetual storm of greed and ambition.

"Sesshoumaru-san"

He turned his attention to his body guard, a stalwart Yakuza dressed to blend and be forgotten. His black suit fit so well in the dimness of Sesshoumaru's shadow that he could hardly be noticed.

"Yazawa begs an audience with you, sir."

Sesshoumaru rose to his feet, wordlessly leaving behind the array of prostitutes and inebriated clients behind in his VIP booth to enjoy their world of debauchery. The body guard tacitly followed like a dog never far from his master. They smoothly made their way past the crowds of guests, all chatting and dancing to the jazz band's tunes. Light glittered against every chandelier, every diamond on a woman's neck, and every champagne glass that graced a person's hand. The brightness of it all discomfited Sesshoumaru, and so he quickened his pace so as to get away from the glare of his night life.

When they exited through the ante chamber, they proceeded to a corridor hidden next to the double door exit, and entered a small, dark lounge. Nothing was visible but the glow of garnet against the lanterns hanging in the ceiling. The room was occupied by two couches and a lacquered coffee table in the center. A middle aged man, with gray whiskers on his chin and silvery side burns sat nervously, awaiting Sesshoumaru's arrival. He constantly fidgeted and adjusted the collar of his suit.

"How's my father?"

The nervous man smiled, happy to receive small talk. "He is doing better. Your father is a strong fighter Sesshoumaru-san. He will beat this cancer."

Sesshoumaru remained expressionless. He hadn't visited his father since before the chemotherapy. If there was anything his father most abhorred in this world, it was pity. A self-made Yakuza boss did not need the pity of his dependent underlings.

"And your boss? He was able to pay respects?"

The man nodded repeatedly, as if quickening and repeating his actions would make time pass faster. Sesshoumaru's bodyguard approached the man and brought two shots of whiskey and gin. The guest quickly grabbed a shot glass and imbibed with haste. He could feel his legs giving way, and the tremor of his nerves made his head sore with stressful worry. Sesshoumaru, the successor to the whole empire and drug trade, was a good fifteen years younger than he, but he cowered in his presence. He felt himself to be an impertinent insect ready to be crushed by the man who would take over all.

"Well then. Let's get to business." Sesshoumaru leaned back against a couch. He reached for a cigar from his suit and lit it with ease. The lounge, now smoky, was dimmed even more, and one could faintly see the burning glow of the cigar.

"My boss-…" the man started. His lips shook, making him stutter. "My boss… he'd like to r-re-renew the deal. He n-needs the, the-… support of your politicians. Too many are on his tail…"

The young man scoffed at his clumsy attempt at begging (when he was supposed to be brokering a deal). Sesshoumaru felt amused that his presence alone could instill such fear in the heart of a seasoned Yakuza. He felt powerful, and his eyes burned with the delight of playing with such fire.

He inhaled deeply, letting the cigar butt burn out before putting it out on the coffee table. The middle aged man could see the charred circle over the lacquered wood, and somehow, he imagined himself being used as an ashtray if he does so much as make the wrong move.

"Tell your boss," Sesshoumaru began, before exhaling a puff of noxious smoke. "Tell him I will be glad to renew the deal, and honor the age old friendship he shared with my father."

The guest smiled, relieved to hear his words.

"But."

His skin broke into sweats upon hearing the one word. Sesshoumaru's eyes glowed, feeling pride over his cunning.

"But, I'm afraid your boss has not honored his end of the bargain. He owed my father ¥760,000,000, and I've already offered to cut the interest in half. So why should I make more concessions? You blame law enforcement and politicians for your stagnant sales and botched trafficking, when I think it's your deficient cartels and impecunious addicts you call customers draining your money. This Sesshoumaru has granted you protection, loans, and loyal men, and this is how you repay me? More begging? I'm trying to run a business here…"

The man jumped from his seat and dove onto the floor, bowing in utter deference and terror. His eyes reddened and his timorous heart beat violently against his chest. "Please, sir! The boss is trying to get his money, but his debtors won't pay! I swear, in two weeks! In two weeks we shall fulfill our end!"

Sesshoumaru glanced at his body guard, who took it as a cue to grab the man and put him back on his own feet.

"And what if he doesn't?" the bodyguard asked, his devious gaze menacing his victim back to the ground.

He knelt before Sesshoumaru in silence, gasping for air as he felt his eyes bore through his skin.

Sesshoumaru took his cigarette and pressed the cinders of its burning end against the messenger's cheek. He pressed harder as the man screamed in agony, clutching Sesshoumaru's arm and trying to squirm away.

"We'll make him an offer he can't refuse."

* * *

><p>Rin sat huddled in the corner of the street. Her breath blew white wisps into the cold, winter air, while the vivacious city around her gleamed in the light, soundless snow. She hugged herself, cold out of her wits. Homeless, and with only ¥5,000 to live on, the disconsolate youth had no choice. If she had stayed; if she hadn't ran away, then she would not have lived through tomorrow.<p>

Shaking, she took off her gloves and rubbed her numb hands together, hoping to create warmth. The rest of her body shivered underneath layers of summer blouses and jeans, sheltered by a small and old pea coat. A knitted wool scarf wrapped around her head and neck. It wore the faded shade of pink and had tiny daisy patterns stitched all around. Rin cherished that scarf since before her mother died. It was the last birthday gift she had ever received.

The three days she spent as a vagrant all melted into one another. There was no sense time of or sequence, and Rin could only consciously recall her endless wandering and begging for food.

When she had made her escape, Rin thought about contacting the police with the hopes of being sent to a Witness Protection Program, but she knew the Yakuza had the fealty of the corrupt authority. She had to find the right person if she was going to seek help.

The young woman looked up at the night sky, a tourniquet of black barren of any light. The stars were veiled by the city's fluorescent glow, and everything around her was mired by the raucous noise of the concrete jungle. Tokyo was an underworld of false lights and empty faces. Rin felt hope leave her when not even the moon could grace the evening sky. _Please end my suffering_, she prayed. She closed her eyes, hoping for another beacon of hope. Everything was a fast paced nightmare where her body remained an empty shell, hovering in an ocean of darkness and gloom. Her soul was somewhere out there, lost in an abyss. _Put an end to this misery…_

"…A wind howling in grief and unrequited love, eternally forlorn… eternally alone…"

Rin woke from her disconsolate reverie, and looked at the man before her. He was cloaked all around, his body in a black trenched coat, a familiar fedora hat, and sun glasses…

"It's you," she whispered. "You're from the noodle house."

She could make out a grin underneath the collar of his trench coat, and beneath his sun glasses, Rin could glimpse a luminous sheen from emanate from his eyes. _Is this guy for real…_

His smile grew, and Rin could feel herself being lowered. Somehow, she felt like an ant under his mercy, ready to be played by his will.

"You poor little mermaid."

Rin scowled. _What the hell is he talking about?_ She rose from her little corner, dusting off snow from her shoulders and jeans. She could feel her whole body wake from a deep slumber, as if standing thawed them from a winter's sleep. The man only stared back at her, with the same amused and condescending look. He wanted something from her, and Rin was disquieted beyond reason. She felt chills, not from the frigid air, but from his stare, which was colder than anything she ever felt.

"Get away from me," she warned. Her eyes glowered and she felt her arms wrap herself in an embrace. She was frightened out of her wits. "Did they send you to find me?"

The mysterious man's grin only grew wider and his enigmatic stare only colder.

"A year you shall have," his voice bellowed from beneath the collars of his coat. His right arm rose and pointed a finger at the woman, making her feel even more vulnerable. "A year you shall have, and when on the last day's sunset, he belongs to the heart of another…"

_Those words_, the familiar words played in her mind. His voiced echoed the prophetic declaration in her dream. The eerie similarity made her knees weak, and she felt herself drowning in dread and resignation. Her heart palpitated, fighting to get out of her chest, and her blood simmered, choking her veins through their rapid flow. Rin felt light headed, and she knew she had to run. She felt her body losing _something_.

"You can't! It was just a dream," she cried out. The man was like a broken record. Repeating over and over again her doomed fate. "Eternally forlorn. Eternally alone."

Rin felt warm tears slither down her face, and her head felt burned in agitation. She covered her ears, pushing her hands against her head with all her might. She did not want to hear him. She did not want to listen to him.

"Pay your price, mermaid." He said, bellowing into maniac laughter. His sinister laugh echoed throughout the city, and for a split second, Rin noticed there was no one there. Tokyo was barren, its buildings hushed with their blinding lights. She screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping for someone to save her, to hear her pleas.

Looking down at her feet, she noticed they were gone, and she was no longer in the snow. She could see herself in a barren ocean, the waves crashing against her naked body. Blood trickled down her thighs, and when she took a step, a knife slowly plunged itself into her feet, turning the sapphire water into a crimson veil wrapping her helpless form.

"NO!"

"Pay your price, boy!"

Rin's eyes shot open, and she felt herself rise from the cold hard concrete.

* * *

><p>"Pay your price, boy!" The voice echoed through the alleyways. Rin's eyes opened, her body lying huddled next to garbage cans in a dark alleyway. She was hidden within the shadows, blending into the grime of the disconsolate brick walls. Her body slowly sat up, weak and aching from her cold, hard bed.<p>

_Another dream…_ She remembered now how she fell asleep next to a dumpster in the alleyway, wrapped in soiled newspaper and the remains of the bemired snow.

She went on her knees, crawling around. She heard the threatening voice earlier and wanted to find its source. Rin could still feel sweat trickle down her temple from the nightmare she woke from. It left her chills and a ominous pang clawing at her heart. Something frightened her, but it was not the voice.

_Bang_

Rin heard a gunshot resonate all through the alleyway. A cat jumped from its home in a garbage can and fled for safety. The sonic boom swept through the dark corner, and Rin herself froze to her spot. Someone was hurt.

The wind howled, wailing in the eerie air. The atmosphere grew heavier, and darker. Rin's nerves shook all over. In the deafening silence that followed the shot, she could hear a tiny and faint whimper. Somebody was still breathing, but his energy waned with each dying moment.

She heard footsteps, and they trailed away as a group of shadows faded into the light. They had left. The perpetrators had left. Rin got up and ran to where she could hear the faint breathing.

"Father…"

Underneath cardboard boxes, blood seeped in the snow. It was a garnet color, deep and smooth on the cold hard ground. Rin gasped at the sight. _So much blood_.

The injured man lay there, his weak breaths dissolving into the air. His suit was stained with blood and Rin could see his chest deepen with the crimson color.

"Wait!" she cried, though she didn't know to whom it was for. She ran to his side, caressing his cheek. It felt icy and numb. The man was dying. "Just wait a second!"

She took his limp body into her arms, her soft hand feeling warm again. The man was tall, and big. She could barely lift his torso, but she found the strength to do so, and hugged him. Rin didn't know why, but she had to save him. Her brown eyes solemnly gazed at his face. Long streaks of pale hair covered his porcelain skin, and his strong gaunt cheeks lay still. _A handsome man…_

She caressed him more, and hugged him tighter. She pressed with her left hand where she felt the wound to be. When she applied the pressure, the man groaned in pain. His eyelids fought hard and fluttered open. Rin glanced his golden eyes, dilated and unseeing, before his lids closed once more from weakness.

"You have to live!" she yelled. Rin felt herself crying again. She didn't want this man to die, and felt him dying with every breath he took. "Please don't die." She whispered into his ear. His life was hers now, she understood. It was her one last deed, and her one last hope. If this man can live, then she can live too.

"HELP!" she screamed. Her voice wailed against the concrete and echoed dissonantly against the waves of traffic sounds and city lights. It reverberated with desperation. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!"

She broke into a howling sob, plaintively seeking the universe for some help.

"…father…" the man whispered. His voice was strained and faint. Rin looked at him, puzzled at his resilience.

"Don't give up," she cooed. "You can do it." She smiled, wondering if maybe he could sense a smile.

"I'm… sorry."

Rin laughed at his apology. She didn't know why he would say such a thing. "It's alright." She cradled him back and forth, comforting him as much as she could.

Her body emanated with a warm glow, radiant and loving. She reminded herself of memories of her mother, cradling her in the same comforting way. Her mother used to rescue her from the worst of storms, through poverty and the abuse of her father. Now it was her turn. She will rescue this man, and she will do whatever it takes.

"Where is the friend," her voice sang, humming in a low, muted tune. The words came to her with the surge of memories of her mother. It was an old lullaby, a nocturne for the tempestuous soul.

"Where is the friend I seek at the break of day?  
>My love, do not shy away.<br>I am your light,  
>Your singing flower through the winter's cold.<br>My burning heart, pure as white,  
>True as the ages old."<p>

From the distance, sirens began to ring in the air, and the screech of tires rushed to the scene. Rin knew help had come. With the police coming, she could be questioned, and the Yakuza may find her once more. She gently placed his body back on the ground, and as soon as she let go, his arm shot up and grabbed hers. He was still strong and had an iron grip.

"Don't go," he said. His shot up, and his eyes barely open. An amber sheen escaped from his flickering eyes. "Don't leave me."


End file.
